


Reckless

by agnes_stewart



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agnes_stewart/pseuds/agnes_stewart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was reckless, a rogue, a fool, and she was his companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

Dionysus spent little time on Olympus, only being called there when important meetings were being held or he ran into trouble on earth. He preferred the company of the foolish mortals than to that of gods; those brilliant gods, shimmering in their glory. He had no place there, the god of wine surrounded by those patrons of the arts, of wisdom, of beauty and war. He didn’t belong. And Dionysus knew it.   
He was reckless, a rogue, a fool, and she was his companion.  
He took the to earth, money in his pockets and his mind foggy with alcohol. He stumbled back to the small flat each night, a small hand on his back, keeping him upright. They sat together on the bathroom floor, her arms wrapped around him as he wretched in the toilet. She whispered the old language in his ear as he slumped against her, her fingers threading in his dark hair.  
Later, the bathroom was deserted and they lay together in the bed, their bodies pressed closely together in sleep and the sheets tangled around their legs.  
At about two a.m., Dionysus awoke and sat by his easel, contenting himself with painting her sleeping form; the gentle smile residing on her face and the blonde hair that tumbled down her back.  
As the sun broke through the windows, she would rise, stretching and placing her hands on his shoulders, looking over the painting. “It’s lovely,” she spoke, her voice hazy from sleep. She then pressed a quick kiss to his temple before leaving the bedroom and moving to the kitchen. He could hear her singing lazily as she fixed a simple breakfast.  
Dionysus let out a low hum, not moving from his seat. He surveyed the painting, the smooth lines of her body and the blue and silver moonlight casting over her peaceful face. The white sheets splayed over her. The small upward curl of her lips.   
His love, his wife, his Ariadne.


End file.
